


The Waltz of Silence

by deathmarkedlove_archivist



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-29
Updated: 2007-01-29
Packaged: 2018-12-15 09:43:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11803467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathmarkedlove_archivist/pseuds/deathmarkedlove_archivist
Summary: Buffy is a bit suicidal after she is brought back from the dead and Spike helps her find meaning again.





	The Waltz of Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Hils, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Death-Marked Love](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Death-Marked_Love). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the Death-Marked Love collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/deathmarkedlove/profile).

Silence is something you really appreciate when silence is lacking. Silence was what she craved. Silence that binds you and fills you whole—it understands you and knows that only tranquility will quench your soul.

She looked out into the night—silence was with her. It was her companion.

The night held many secrets she knew and understood and others could never grasp. The night was no longer her enemy or her adversary but her advocate.

It was her strong-arm in times of darkness; it was her shelter in time of pain. It hid her tears in the cloak of darkness—surrendering her shaken body that trembled with unreleased sobs.

And silence. She appreciated it more than ever. When she was around her loved ones it was a contact buzzing sound that nibbled at her ear. At times it was comfort, but at other times she missed the serenity of the night silence.

Only one knew her need for it—the need to go back to that place of belonging—that place of pure oblivion. That place was death.

Death was at her heals and for three long months she was grateful it had found her. There she had known the meaning of fulfillment, the true meaning of life and it’s insignificance.

Life was a sand pebble on the beach shore—one in a trillion. A moment in time, so small and unaccounted for, so little and unnoticed, so pale and insignificant.

She had it all figured out. Since she was nothing, then jumping off the cliff would mean nothing.

The light white dress flapped in the wind, her bare feet grasped the rocky surface of the mountain, and her arms stretched wide from her sides, welcoming the night’s silence.

She closed those green eyes on last time and smiled—she was going back. Going back to that place were time stood still and she was happy, she was normal, where she was free.

Taking one last breath she jumped.

It was strange—once you let go, completely, it feels like arms that lift you and support you. Like love that shelters you and keeps you safe, warming your heavy head against a hard chest, wrapped in leather that smells of cigarettes and bourbon.

Wait…..

This was not what she remembered.

She lifted her heavy head to look at the face of the loving arms that had her.

Strong blue eyes held her gaze with a disapproving yet understanding shine to them.

He said nothing.

He bent down and picked her frail body up in his arms and carried her away from her cliff of freedom.

He said nothing.

She sagged against the rock-hard chest and sighed. Her troubles were still there—the pain of that peace was radiant and true. But she felt comforted. A comfort that pushes you to live—makes you see that there’s still life to be lived, makes you want to take another breath.

He carried her to a park bench and sat her down.

She looked down to her pale, clasped hands. Those hands were tired. The fight was not over—yet she was tired.

He took off his black duster and wrapped it tightly around her shivering body.

He said nothing.

He sat down beside her and looked out into the waltzing trees.

They sat there for a long time—like they had done before like they would do in the future.

The sound of nature danced its sweet promenade at the rhythm of the night. Silence was the tempo—caress was its touch.

After minutes of comfortable silence he stood up and stretched out his hand.

Wide, green eyes glared in doubt at the pale fingers decorated with black nail polish.

He waited.

She looked up—questioning his motives as always.

“Dance?” he asked.

She looked down sadly at her still clasped trembling hands.

“There’s no music,” she said.

He smiled “That’s something we’ve never lacked.”

She said nothing and tentatively took his outstretched hand.

Cold fingers grasped warm ones and lifted her up.

The black coat sank to the crisp grass below as he pressed her body lightly to his.

He swayed his hips carefully against her hers. Eyes met eyes as sadness and illusion stared back at each other.

She said nothing as they moved to their own rhythm.

They danced for what seemed like a lifetime. Silence was their rhythm.

Then he stopped and looked at her.

“Why,” he asked her.

She looked up to the night sky that held her peace and her silence.

“Why not,” she answered him.

Silence.

He grabbed her chin gently and made her look at him.

“How many can I answer? Matters not why I want you to live, what matters is what’s worth living for?”

She looked down and avoided his eyes.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

She looked up at him, eyes narrowing her gaze.

“Either that or you’re in denial,” He said. “If you’re looking for an excuse, Summers, you got none. None that are valid. None that would hold weight with me.”

“I don’t care what you think,” she said, walking away from him.

“You miss the peace,” he stated and she stopped at her tracks.

He stalked slowly up to her, drinking in her misery. “That place where everything stands still. That life we are all looking forward to.”

She turned and looked at him. “You can’t know.”

“Can’t I?” he asked and stopped. “See that?” he pointed to the night stars.

“That peace is an incarnation of that. The serenity burns you and fills you. Makes you want nothin’ more in life.”

Tears warmed her shivering face as he spoke.

“Makes you want to forget everything and stay ‘here, just sleeping eternity away.”

She nodded. “How can you do it?” she asked him. “Live day after day knowing that such peace exists. That only a blink away and you’re there,…for eternity.” She wiped her tears gently.

He smiled at her. “S’not for me anymore. I don’t get that peace. Got no soul,…my eternity is spent in ‘ell, and I’m really not in the mood to be fried extra crispy.”

She looked at the moonlit face and felt sadness for this man, this man who had nothing to look forward to.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“Not your fault, slayer. This is what I chose,” he said. “’ell, if it weren’t for me, you’d be splattered road kill.”

“I’d be many things if it weren’t for you.” She looked down at her hands again.

He moved closer to her and smiled. “Likewise.”

Bright green eyes looked in humor to his. “You think you’ve changed because of me?”

He shook his head and sat on the bench. Bending down he searched for his pack of cigarettes and lit one.

“No, I changed ‘cause I wanted to.” He looked down shyly at his feet. “’Cause I find that peace when I’m around you…and nibblet. You two are my peace.”

She smiled at the soulless demon before her. She walked in front of him and gently wrapped her arms around his cool neck. His soft hair tickled her sensitive skin.

He leaned his platinum white head against her warm belly and sighed.

She cradled his face to her, warming him with her life.

“Show me that peace, Spike?” she asked out into the darkness.

He wrapped his arms around her dress-clad body.

“Just…let go.” He whispered.

She clutched him tighter as tears fell from her eyes and down to the top of his head.

“I can’t,” she managed to say between sobs that started wrecking her body.

He stood up and took her smaller frame into his. Kissing the top of her head and whispering comfort.

“Yes, you can. If there’s someone who can it’s you. It won't be easy. It won’t happen over night. You’ll grow up—more than you’ve ever had and I’ll be there. I’ll be right beside you every step of the way. You’ll never be alone again.”

She looked up into his sincere face. “Can’t get rid of you, can I?” she asked him.

“If you want me to leave, you’re gonna have to put your hands on my hot, tight, little body and make me.” He smirked down at her.

She returned his smile. “Good.”

She sank into his embrace, and savored the scent that always surrounded him.

They held each other in silence.

“Spike?” she asked finally.

“Yeah?”

“Take me home?” she asked, still buried in his chest.

“Do you need me to guide you?” he asked, looking down at her.

She pulled back and looked at him appreciatively.

“No,” she said. “I just need you to stand by me.”

He nodded and bent down to kiss her.

It was a light, understanding kiss—she returned it with a promise of time.

“Done,” he whispered against her skin.

He bent down and picked up his coat—wrapping it around her shoulders and taking her smaller hand in his.

They walked out into the night, out into the silence that held all peace.

FINIS!!!


End file.
